


You won't take what's mine

by IsobelTheroux



Series: FemSlash February 2016 [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Minor Violence, Protectiveness, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsobelTheroux/pseuds/IsobelTheroux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela always protects what's hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You won't take what's mine

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for a prompt over at a deviantArt group called Fanfiction-Friends. The prompt was Hate, and an extra challenge was to do one under five-hundred words.

Isabela’s fist struck the Templar, his bones crunching beneath her knuckles. He tried to block her next hit and she crouched instead, sweeping her leg out and causing him to fall on the ground. She was on him in an instant, fists flying with abandon. It was his fault! He was the one who.. Her eyes flicked over to Merrill’s motionless body.

“I hate you and your damned kind,” she snarled. Anger surged through her body. The Templar’s eyes widened as she brought her blade up to his throat. She leaned over and hissed, “You think you can take whomever you want with no consequence? Not while I still breathe. And certainly not her.”

She slide her knife across his throat, watching him twitch and bleed. She knelt over him and watched as the life drained from his body.

A moaned broke the silence and she jumped up, rushing to Merrill’s side instantly, hands reaching out, barely daring to hope.

“’Bela?” Though Merrill’s voice was barely a whisper, Isabela laughed mirthlessly.

“Yes, Kitten. I’m here.” She stroked Merrill’s cheek, silently thanking the Maker or whomever it was that had brought her so much luck. She had certain she had lost the tiny elf. Just looking at her reminded Isabela how fragile Merrill really could be. Without magic she seemed so defenseless.

Merrill struggled to sit up, Isabela placing a hand behind her back. “Isabela, what happened?”

“Those bastard must have seen you using magic against that thief. He came up behind you and hit you over the head.” Her voice shook with barely controlled rage. Her vision went red and she realized she was shaking.

Merrill hugged her suddenly, thin arms encircling her. “It’s okay, ‘Bela. I’m still here.” She stroked Isabela’s hair, whispering sweet words.

Isabela pulled away, looking Merrill in the eyes. “When I saw you like that, just lying there....” A fierceness flashed in her eyes. “They will not take you from me. Not even if I have to hunt each of them down myself.”

“I know.” Isabela was pulled back into the hug, startled when she realized tears were streaming down her face.


End file.
